


Lonely

by Servena



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Angst, Canon-Compliant, Gen, Loneliness, Missing someone, hurt without comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 21:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15591531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servena/pseuds/Servena
Summary: It’s lonely without the voice inside his head.





	Lonely

It’s lonely without the voice inside his head.  
Of course everyone has a voice inside their head at all times – their own. But that is not what Ryou is missing, his voice was still there, albeit a bit feeble. It was the other voice that had disappeared, a voice darker than his own, darker in tone, darker in thought, darker in intention, belonging to a soul that was like a black mirror image of himself. A voice that had tormented him, that had led him into danger and made him do things he had never wanted to do. One that he would never have thought he would miss.   
But he does.  
He feels stupid about it for the first couple of weeks. What kind of idiot misses the demon in his head after he is finally free of it? There has to be something wrong with him if he cannot appreciate what everyone else has done for him. What his friends did for him.  
That feels strange, having friends. Even before the accident, Ryou had always been lonely. He had been lonely for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt like not to be. And now he has friends that do with him what friends do: They meet up at each other’s home and go to the cinema and have ice cream together and there is still a giant empty hole in his chest that feels as if it will swallow him whole, so what the hell is wrong with him?  
It takes some more time to realize that the voice in his head has never been as hard on him as he is on himself. In a weird and probably not entirely selfless way, that voice had been on his side. Leading him. Pushing him. Protecting him, even.  
Of course any parasite would be foolish not to protect his host, so he really shouldn’t be reading anything into it.  
But he keeps thinking about that moment he was sure would be the last and then it wasn’t, and there’s a tiny part of him that wonders if maybe there had been something, something more than chance and opportunity, something more than his usefulness.  
They notice, of course. He says “I’m fine” so much that it starts to feel like it becomes one word, imfine, imfine, over and over again. Of course they don’t believe him and he does not expect them to. He just wishes they would finally stop asking.  
Because the truth that creeps up on him is so horrible that he could never take it into his mouth.  
He wishes they hadn’t freed him after all.


End file.
